The Mustache
by Elbereth in April
Summary: We are all shocked to find in Dragonball GT that Vegeta has grown a mustache. Now the story of WHY is revealed...
1. The Conception

The Mustache  
  
By Elbereth in April  
  
Disclaimer: I don't Dragonball GT, it just provides me with really strange inspirations.  
  
____________ _____________  
  
Chapter 1: The Conception  
  
Vegeta wondered how he got talked into these things. "Help me with my homework, Daddy?" she'd said, looking up at him with those big, blue eyes. Hn. If Frieza knew what a pushover he'd become. . . well, if Frieza were around today, he'd obliterate him before he had a chance to find out. . .  
  
Meanwhile, Bra was sitting at the table next to him, showing him something in a textbook. He looked at it. "History? Earth history? How would I know about that? Why would I care?"  
  
"Come on, Daddy, you can figure it out." She was smiling at him.  
  
He sighed. "Fine. What does it say?"  
  
"This is Stalin, he was a dictator in Russia. Killed a lot of people. He was very powerful." She pointed at his picture. "This is Hitler. He killed millions of people, too. He ruled Germany and almost took over all of Europe. Oh, this one is Teddy Roosevelt, he was a President of the United States-he was quite powerful, too, and he won some battles. Saddam Hussein, another powerful ruler, and a nasty killer. Genghis Khan, he conquered all kinds of people. Oh, and here's Hercule Satan. . . you know about him, of course. Daddy? Are you listening?  
  
Vegeta was staring at the book. A strange thought had come over him as he looked at the pictures in Bra's book. Those were all, apparently, very powerful men. And they all had one thing in common: mustaches.  
  
Could there possibly be a correlation?  
  
Could having a mustache make one more powerful?  
  
Not in space, obviously, look at Frieza, and not strength-wise, look at Hercule Satan. . . but here on Earth, power wasn't always given to the physically strong. For some reason. Maybe humans believed having a mustache made one more worthy of ruling. Maybe men with mustaches were given more respect. . .  
  
"Vegeta! Where are you?" Bulma's voice screamed from somewhere in the house. "What did you do to this suit? You deliberately destroyed it, didn't you? Honestly, if you don't behave yourself, I'll turn off the gravity room for a month!"  
  
Heaven knows, he needed more respect around here.  
  
__________ ________  
  
Author's Note: Some of the men mentioned in this story are/were evil killers, but all of them have ruled countries and other people, and that would be all that Vegeta would care about. So don't be upset, OK? This is just supposed to be funny.  
  
These chapters are all going to be pretty short. 


	2. The Growth Stage

The Mustache  
  
By Elbereth in April  
  
Chapter 2: The Growth Stage  
  
A Few Days Later:  
  
After breakfast, Bulma suddenly grabbed Vegeta's face and scrubbed at his upper lip with a napkin. He pulled away roughly. "Gah! What are you doing, woman?"  
  
"Your lip is dirty. . . but it won't come off."  
  
He felt his upper lip. "That's not dirt! I'm growing a mustache."  
  
"A mustache?" she repeated numbly.  
  
He gave her a smug look. Her own face was blank. Their two children had fallen into complete silence, staring. "A mustache?" Trunks asked finally.  
  
Smirking, he nodded, then started to grow annoyed as his family just stared at him and one another. "What?"  
  
"It's just--um, so sudden," Bulma said. "I can't imagine it."  
  
He scowled. This thing had better grow fast.  
  
_________ ________  
  
"Is it just me or has Dad been almost unbearably insufferable lately?" Trunks complained to his sister, plopping down beside her on the couch.  
  
"It's as if no man ever grew a mustache before," she nodded.  
  
"I wonder what put this idea into his head."  
  
"I have no clue."  
  
___________ ________  
  
Vegeta stood in front of the bathroom mirror, silently willing his mustache to grow. Shouldn't it be coming in faster? He was Saiyan, after all. And the Prince of all Saiyans at that. His mustache sound be something spectacular. It should radiate power. Why wouldn't it hurry up?  
  
His father had had a mustache, he reassured himself. Well, a goatee, actually, but that included a mustache. So it would grow eventually. It was OK.  
  
He smirked suddenly. Kakkarot didn't have a mustache. Maybe now his superiority would finally be recognized!  
  
At the very least, he would be way cooler than him!  
  
"Grow, mustache, grow!"  
  
_______ ________  
  
Bulma dropped her hand away from the bathroom door without knocking and ran off to the bedroom, to dissolve in helpless giggles. Her husband was so silly! She could never tell him she overheard that, of course, but that didn't matter. . .  
  
Vegeta entered the bedroom and smirked at her. She fell off the bed at the sight of him, laughing hysterically.  
  
"What is your problem, woman?" She couldn't be laughing at him, could she? No, that was ridiculous.  
  
"N-nothing," she managed at last, still giggling.  
  
"Hn." He frowned at her.  
  
He was so silly! But adorable. She got up, eyes dancing, and walked over to stand in front of him.  
  
He gave her a wary look. "What?"  
  
She wrapped her arms around his neck and licked his stubbly upper lip. "Mmm. . . mustache taste good."  
  
He beamed at her. OK, it wasn't exactly respectful, but still, he was finally getting results!  
  
"Can't resist my new power, can you?" he exalted.  
  
She started giggling again. "No, facial hair is my downfall," she teased him, only laughing harder when he appeared to take her seriously.  
  
"Yes, well, just wait til it's finished," he said, steering them over towards the bed.  
  
"I live for the day."  
  
"Of course you do."  
  
She let him lay her down without resisting. "Are you going to show me your newfound power?"  
  
"Why not?"  
  
_________ _______  
  
In the hallway, Trunks looked thoroughly sickened. "Why do I always end up overhearing stuff like that?"  
  
_________ _________  
  
Bra found her mother watching T.V. "You encouraged him, didn't you, Mom?"  
  
Bulma looked up. "What?"  
  
"Daddy. His mustache."  
  
"Oh. . . yes," she admitted, feeling guilty. "It was an accident, though. I hadn't meant to."  
  
Bra sat down and scowled at the T.V., arms crossed. "Just great."  
  
"How did you know?"  
  
"I caught him staring in the hallway mirror, saying, 'Who's the man? I am! The mustache man!'"  
  
Bulma died laughing once again. "Did you say anything?" she asked when she recovered, a good 15 minutes later.  
  
"No! I hid until he went on. Even *I'm* not crazy enough to let him know I saw *that.*"  
  
"I think it's best if we just humor him, dear. It's just a phase he's going through. The excitement will wear off eventually and then he'll get over it."  
  
"Maybe he's having a mid-life crisis?"  
  
Bulma looked thoughtful. "Maybe. I'll keep my eye on him."  
  
"Well, I wish it would get over soon! I mean, this is all pretty funny, but. . ." she shuddered. "He looks like a geek!" 


	3. Full Growth Is Obtained

The Mustache  
  
By Elbereth in April  
  
Chapter 3: Full Growth Is Obtained  
  
Finally it had happened. Vegeta regarded his mustache with considerable glee. It Was Fully Grown! Now things would start to happen!  
  
He cackled wickedly. He would put it to use right away. And the first use, obviously, would be to show his power over Kakkarot!  
  
Bulma, Bra, and Trunks, standing in the hallway, heard eerie, gloating laughter coming from the bathroom. "Is that Daddy?"  
  
Bulma sighed. "What other baka would it be?" She pounded on the bathroom door. "Vegeta! Other people need to use the bathroom, too, you know!"  
  
Vegeta, who was re-combing and trimming his mustache--and had been, in fact, for quite some time--hollered back, "Leave me alone, Woman!"  
  
"It's been over an hour, Vegeta!"  
  
"Shut up, Woman! I've had to wait on you for years!"  
  
"Well, Mom, that's true. . ." Trunks scratched his head.  
  
Bra giggled. "I bet he's working on his mus--tache!" she said in a deliberately loud voice. The others laughed.  
  
Inside the bathroom, Vegeta bristled. So what if he was? They were going out. It had to be perfect. His complete superiority over Kakkarot had to be proven once and for all!  
  
And in the hallway. . .  
  
"Mom, he's laughing madly again. . ."  
  
________ _______  
  
The Vegeta-Briefs Family was meeting the Son Family for dinner. This was a fairly monumental event. The wives had picked out Le Chang's Buffet Restaurant, a classy place uptown. The Son Family was already seated and waiting impatiently when they arrived.  
  
Vegeta strutted toward them, arrogance radiating from every molecule in his being. The others walked sheepishly a little way behind.  
  
Trunks was quite looking forward to their reactions.  
  
Vegeta stopped at the head of their table and crossed his arms. He stared at each in turn, waiting for the acclaim.  
  
The silence was absolute.  
  
"Wow," Chi-Chi said at last, "and I thought I was shocked when you cut your hair."  
  
"It's OK," Videl blurted, "he's still wearing black leather."  
  
She began to blush furiously as everyone turned to look at her speculatively.  
  
"What did you mean by that remark?" Gohan demanded, scowling. "Have you been checking out *Vegeta*?"  
  
Bulma's eyes narrowed as she stared at Videl, and she clutched onto Vegeta's arm possessively.  
  
Vegeta cut off Videl's stammering reply. "Where's Kakkarot?"  
  
"Up at the buffet," Pan responded. "He couldn't wait."  
  
"Hn. Figures." So far Vegeta was displeased. He hadn't gotten the reaction he had anticipated. Could there possibly be something wrong with his mustache? He ran his fingers over it. No, no. . . it was fine, he reassured himself. Superb, in fact. So what was the problem?  
  
Well, he would go try it out on Kakkarot.  
  
He turned abruptly and stalked off to the buffet table, where he found Kakkarot trying to balance three heaped-full plates on either arm.  
  
Goku grinned. "Vegeta--you made it!"  
  
Vegeta regarded him, scowling, fingers drumming on one crossed arm.  
  
Goku squinted in puzzlement. "Something about you seems--different somehow, Vegeta."  
  
Vegeta waited.  
  
"That's a new shirt, isn't it?"  
  
A darker scowl was the reply.  
  
"You cut your hair again?"  
  
Disapproving silence.  
  
"Lost weight? Gained weight?"  
  
Vegeta tapped his foot.  
  
"Nose job?"  
  
He growled.  
  
Goku grinned again. "I'll never guess," he said happily. "You'll have to tell me."  
  
Vegeta gritted his teeth. "My *mustache*, Kakkarot. My mustache."  
  
Goku's eyes grew very large. His mouth formed an "O" of surprise. For a moment, he simply gawked. Then he burst out laughing. "M-mustache! V-V- Vegeta with a m-m-mustache!"  
  
________ ______  
  
Meanwhile, back at the table. . .  
  
"Dad, will you give it a rest?" Pan rolled her eyes at her father. "I think Vegeta looks good in black leather, too, OK?"  
  
"Pan, you're grounded! And I'm taking you to see if you need glasses!"  
  
"Honestly, Chi-Chi," Bulma was saying softly, "I don't know what's gotten into him. It's been so hard not to just laugh in his face some days. And you know how he'd take that! I like Capsule Corp in one piece, thank you."  
  
"What is it with Saiyan men and weird hair?" Chi-Chi mused.  
  
"Trunks," Goten was grinning. "Your dad looks like a geek. Ow!"  
  
Bra had kicked him under the table, hard. "Don't talk about my father that way!"  
  
"Ow! Sorry!"  
  
"Yeah, my dad can whip your butt," Trunks boasted.  
  
"Yeah!" Bra exclaimed.  
  
"OK, OK, I take it back." Goten looked around the table for support. "Hey, Nissan, what do you think?"  
  
"He doesn't look that great to me!"  
  
Pan was pouting. "You're jealous, Dad."  
  
"Of an old man? Ow!"  
  
Bulma had stepped on his foot, hard. "What are you saying about my husband, who is younger than me?"  
  
"Um, nothing, nothing. . ." Gohan waved his hands frantically.  
  
Back at the buffet. . .  
  
"What-are-you-laughing-at?" Vegeta gritted out, his voice and demeanor entirely too calm for anyone to remain unafraid.  
  
Unless they were completely clueless, like Goku. "N-nothing, Vegeta. I don't mean anything. I *like* it!" He leaned closer and nudged Vegeta, shoulder hitting shoulder, as close to a friendly slap on the arm as he could manage while holding all those plates.  
  
"Are you mocking me?" Vegeta hissed, and shoved him.  
  
The plates fell to the floor. Goku made a desperate grab for them, but missed. He stumbled forward into Vegeta.  
  
Who shoved him again, farther away this time.  
  
"Look what you made me do," Goku whined, staring at the spilled food and broken crockery on the floor.  
  
"You are such a baka!"  
  
"No, I'm not!"  
  
"Yes, you are!"  
  
"No, I'm not!"  
  
"Yes, you are!"  
  
"No, I'm not!"  
  
"Yes, you--ugh! Leave me alone!"  
  
Vegeta turned to walk away. Suddenly Goku was in front of him, blocking his way. "Aw, come on, Vegeta, don't be like that. I said I was sorry."  
  
"You have two seconds to get out of my way."  
  
"Vegeta. . ."  
  
"One," he said, and punched Goku in the nose.  
  
Goku yelped and put up a hand to massage his nose. "You said two! You cheated!"  
  
"You mocked me!" He moved to brush past Goku, who grabbed his arm and spun him back around. Vegeta promptly hit him in the jaw.  
  
"Would you quit it?" Goku, in exasperation, reached out and tugged on Vegeta's mustache. "Ding ding."  
  
Vegeta froze in complete shock. Goku laughed again. "You should see your expression, it's really funny!"  
  
Vegeta's face turned an unhealthy-looking shade of red as his eyebrows drew down and his fist clenched. "No one," he said, very quietly, "touches my mustache."  
  
Goku gulped and backed up a step as Vegeta's ki started escalating very fast, and his aura started crackling around him.  
  
"Oh no," Gohan groaned, at the table. "There they go again."  
  
"If we want food, we'd better get it now." Goten's eyes had widened in panic. There was a mass Saiyan and demi-Saiyan rush to the buffet counter. Bulma, Chi-Chi, and Videl sighed and followed more calmly.  
  
Vegeta chased Goku around the buffet table as the two men and three women also getting food bolted back to their tables. Two more men and a waitress who had been heading that direction turned around and ran away. The Saiyans and their relatives sidestepped them and started filling up their plates.  
  
A waiter came tip-toeing over. "Um, sirs, no running in the. . ." he broke off and dove for cover when Vegeta sent a small ki burst his way.  
  
"Vegeta! Don't kill the waiters," Bulma protested, on her way back to the table. "I may need my drink refilled."  
  
Vegeta ignored her and started firing at Goku. As Goku dodged his first attack, he picked up a new plate. On his successive dodges, he tried to get a baked potato, but it rolled off. So he then tried mashed potatoes instead, and those stuck pretty well. He did a dive ending in a somersault and came up next to the roast beef.  
  
"Kakkarot! You're not taking this seriously!"  
  
"But, Vegeta, I just want to eat!"  
  
"Eat this!"  
  
Back at the table. . .  
  
A ricochet blast flew past Gohan's head. He leaned sideways, keeping his hand protectively over his plate. "That was close."  
  
"Oh, I forgot the butter! Trunks, can you get me some?"  
  
"Sure, Mom. I wanted some more ham anyway." He got up, crouching low, and jogged over to the buffet. "Whoops!" He jumped, as a ki blast hit where he'd been standing and almost took out the butter. "Woah, I'd better hurry."  
  
"Kakkarot," Vegeta said through clenched teeth, "put that food down and fight me."  
  
"Urt, Geta, I anta eat," Goku replied through a mouthful of chicken.  
  
"That does it!" Vegeta blasted the plates out of his hands.  
  
Goku sighed and pouted a bit. "All right. You want fighting? Here!" He grabbed a ladle full of gravy and sploshed it down Vegeta's shirt-front. "Are you happy?"  
  
Vegeta growled and doused him in melted cheese.  
  
"Good luck, Dad," Trunks called in passing. Vegeta nodded just before he was smacked in the face with stuffing. He launched a return shower of strawberries and mayonnaise.  
  
Trunks sat back down and handed Bulma her butter. "Goten, you have milk on your lip."  
  
"Ah." Bra smiled. "A milk mustache."  
  
"Ooh! Ooh! Who am I?"  
  
Unable to help herself, Bulma burst out laughing.  
  
Back at the buffet. . .  
  
Bang! Schlup! Pudding scattered to the high heavens and resettled, like sludgy volcanic ash. Customers at nearby tables were thoroughly splattered. Chili and cream of broccoli soup followed, coming down like chunky rain, ruining the carpeting. A man with a toupe, now dreadfully askew, dripping chocolate and hamburger, stood up and pointed a threatening finger. "You irresponsible puss-brains! I'm sending you my drycleaning bill! Look what you've done to my. . ." His words were cut off as Vegeta scowled and lobbed a roll at his fake hair-piece. His eyes turned into stars as it rebounded off his head, knocking off the toupe, and spinning him around to land face- first into his plate of creamed corn and yams, and incidentally, mildly concussing him.  
  
His lunch companions screamed and abandoned him to his fate, running for the exits. The couple at the neighboring table abandoned their dignity and fled as well, yelling at the top of their lungs and flailing their arms about, creating mass panic. The other diners jumped up, shrieking, running into each other and the waiting staff, slipping on thrown food, falling, getting stepped on, getting up again, jamming into the doorway, getting stuck, shoving the people around them, then finally getting through.  
  
"I'm so embarrassed," Pan said.  
  
Gohan dodged his way around the departing bodies, skirting the soup spill, and cartwheeling around a barrage of thrown melon slices. He finally reached the buffet counter and hastily snatched the tray of brownies to take back to Videl and Pan.  
  
Goku hit Vegeta smack in the face with a large serving of macaroni and cheese. Vegeta wiped his eyes and tackled him, keeping him pinned to the floor with his weight, and dumped a pan of spaghetti and meatballs over Goku's face, followed by a pan of marinara sauce. Then he squished it all in.  
  
Goten made a massive running leap over their prone bodies in order to get more chicken fingers and honey mustard sauce. He discovered that the sauce was ruined. "Man!" he whined. "We can't take them anywhere! I'm going to have to go home after this and have a snack!"  
  
He was almost back to the table when Bra called out, "You didn't forget my pizza, did you?"  
  
He smacked himself in the forehead. "Um, course not!" He turned around and headed back into the fray. His eyes widened at the sight of the two Saiyans. They were covered in food from hair to boots, their features obscured, their clothes caked and gunky. They hardly resembled people anymore. They looked more like the floor of a taxi-cab--or a casserole baked by a psychotic chef. Only Goten's heritage kept him from losing his appetite.  
  
Goku managed to get an elbow in Vegeta's ribs and rolled him off to the side, into a mound of squashed, green-bean-sprinkled jello. He reached up and snagged himself a cornbread muffin, which he ate as Vegeta got to his feet.  
  
"I thought you were fighting seriously!"  
  
"I am, but my stomach isn't."  
  
Vegeta began pelting him with croutons, thrown hard and fast as bullets. "Ow! Vegeta, that hurts!"  
  
Goku retaliated with globs of mashed potatoes. Goten got hit in the side of the face just as he was reaching for a piece of pepperoni. "Dad!"  
  
"Sorry!"  
  
"Serves you right for being slow and unwary, brat!" Vegeta cackled, just before he was struck with a slice of roast beef. It splatted against his neck and slid down.  
  
Goten laughed, and Vegeta splashed him with a wave of ranch salad dressing. "Aw, man!" He retreated back to the table.  
  
"Here." He thrust Bra's pizza at her, with a sulky expression. Bra just laughed.  
  
Meanwhile, at the scene of the fight. . .  
  
Goku zipped behind Vegeta and scattered shrimp down the back of his shirt. Vegeta bonged him over the head with a serving dish. Lettuce, mushrooms, and cauliflower flew through the air. A huge ham roast struck Goku in the chest. Vegeta skidded over applesauce as he tried to avoid chunks of thrown meatloaf. He crashed into a tub of hot fudge and fell to the floor, sticky with chocolate. A dish of M & M's and sprinkles toppled over and coated him with candy. He pulled the dish away but the candy stuck.  
  
Goku, in pursuit, also lost his footing and slammed into the ice cream dispenser. He was promptly covered in soft-serve chocolate-vanilla swirl. He began licking the ice cream off his fingers. He looked over at Vegeta, lying on the floor next to him, and grinned. He plucked a couple M & M's off Vegeta's shoulder, mixed them with ice cream from his own chest, and ate them.  
  
"Kakkarot, you completely disgust me," Vegeta snarled.  
  
Goku reached over with both hands and poked either side of Vegeta's mustache with one finger. "Beep beep."  
  
"Kakkarot." Vegeta looked at him very calmly. "Did you just 'beep' me?"  
  
"Yep!" He put one hand behind his head and grinned.  
  
"Did you just touch my mustache--again?"  
  
"Yep!"  
  
"That's it!"  
  
Trunks, standing up to refill his plate with whatever he could find still intact, was knocked back into his seat when a Big Bang Attack and an aborted Kamehameha defense took out the buffet, part of the ceiling, most of the tables and chairs, and the entire back wall.  
  
"Oooh!" Chi-Chi steamed. "They are in *so* much trouble. This was the only all-you-can-eat buffet left in town that we hadn't been thrown out of!"  
  
Bulma sighed. "Yeah. This is why I order out."  
  
________ _______  
  
Later that evening, Bulma walked through the living room where her children were watching the news. She stopped as she realized the T.V. screen was showing the remains of where they'd eaten lunch.  
  
A reporter stood outside the wreckage. "The fight was apparently started by a mustached man." She turned to a traumatized looking waitress. "Could you describe the events?"  
  
The waitress stared at her with crazed eyes. "The mustache," she said. "The mustache. . ."  
  
"Um, yes. Anything else?"  
  
She grabbed hold of the reporter's collar and pulled her until their faces were only inches apart. "Beware the mustache!"  
  
The reporter struggled to remove the eye-witness' hands. "Okaaay."  
  
The woman clutched on tighter. "The mustache!!"  
  
The reporter turned her face to the camera and gave a sickly smile. "And back to you, Larry."  
  
As the picture was replaced by Larry's weak grin, they heard in the background, "Could someone pull this baka woman off me?"  
  
And rantings of, "The mustache. . ." faded into silence.  
  
"Oh dear," Bulma said.  
  
"Don't let Dad watch that." Trunks shook his head. "It would go straight to his ego."  
  
"Doesn't everything?" Bulma rolled her eyes and left the room.  
  
"Beware the mustache," Bra giggled.  
  
"Bra, this isn't funny!"  
  
"I know, he looks like a geek!"  
  
______ ______  
  
"Irresponsible puss-brains" from UHF.  
  
"Like the floor of a taxi-cab" from Ghostbusters.  
  
I own neither. 


	4. Mustache Bonding

The Mustache  
  
By Elbereth in April  
  
Chapter 4: Mustache Bonding  
  
Bulma waited until after breakfast to walk up behind Vegeta and sling her arms around him. "Vegeta, darling," she began, trying to make him relaxed and mellow by whispering in his ear.  
  
He smirked and placed his hands over the arms wrapped around his neck. "What, Onna?"  
  
"Today's Pan's sleepover party. She invited Marron and Bra. Remember?" He nodded. She kissed his neck. "And we're supposed to drop her off." Another kiss. "And then. . ." she braced herself for the dreaded explosion, "we're supposed to eat dinner with Krillin, 18, and Hercule Satan." She waited for Vegeta to express loud dissatisfaction and disdain of Hercule Satan.  
  
"OK," Vegeta said.  
  
"Now, I know you don't exactly get along with him, but I'll reward you later--what?"  
  
"It's all right, Onna--I'm looking forward to it."  
  
"What?"  
  
He kissed her, then disentangled himself. "I think maybe I'll start getting ready now!" He bounded away enthusiastically, leaving Bulma staring after him in complete confusion.  
  
_________ __________  
  
Bra and Vegeta, who was carrying Bulma, landed in Hercule's yard next to an ornate marble fountain of Mr. Satan, spraying water from his outstretched fingertips. Vegeta looked at it. 'Hm,' he thought, 'maybe I should have a statue made of me. . .'  
  
They walked up to the front steps, past the topiary bush cut in the shape of Hercule. On the doorstep, they met up with Krillin and family. "Hey all," Krillin said, eyeing Vegeta a bit nervously. Then he blinked.  
  
"Vegeta-san!" Marron exclaimed in wonder. "You have a mustache!"  
  
Vegeta stood up a bit straighter and tilted his head to maximum effect.  
  
"Oh my gosh," blurted 18, then turned abruptly to knock on the door to hide her face.  
  
Krillin just stared, mouth open, eyes wide.  
  
Vegeta observed their reaction. Was that a positive expression of shock and stupidity or a negative one? Well, at least Marron seemed suitably impressed.  
  
18 turned back around. "Glad to see you're still wearing leather," she said, and Marron nodded vigorously.  
  
Bulma's eyes narrowed dangerously as the door opened.  
  
"Hi, everybody, come on in," Pan invited them.  
  
They walked down a wide, high-ceilinged hallway. Krillin hunched his shoulders nervously. "I feel like they're watching me." All the way along, the walls were covered by large framed pictures of Hercule, in various "heroic" poses--or at least what he considered heroic.  
  
She led them into a huge, ornately decorated living room with a white carpet. A grand staircase occupied one wall, and a fireplace another. They all looked around.  
  
"I've always wanted white carpet," Bulma sighed, eyeing this one with envy.  
  
"Why don't you get one then?" Marron asked.  
  
"Oh, the bloodstains show up too much." They all turned to stare at her, and then Vegeta.  
  
Hercule chose that moment to descend the stairs. "Hello!" he boomed. "Welcome!" He was wearing his Champion wrestling belt and his cape. Half- way down, he tripped and fell a few steps on his face. He sprang back up at once, flushed. "I meant to do that!"  
  
18 rolled her eyes. Vegeta snorted. 'Still only human,' he thought.  
  
"Yeah. Well, I'm taking the girls up to my room now," Pan declared, and the three of them ran off.  
  
The adults were left alone. Hercule made it down the last few steps and crossed the room to them. "So. Everybody ready for dinner?"  
  
They nodded. Vegeta heard 18 mutter, "Let's get this over with."  
  
Hercule got a good look at Vegeta then. "Why, Vegeta! You've grown a mustache! I congratulate you! You'll catch everyone's eye now. Ah, I remember when I was but a callow youth, back before I'd reached my current power and greatness. Then one day, I decided to grow a mustache." A tear ran down from his eye. "Overnight, I had achieved popularity--and attracted Videl's mother, ha! And as my mustache grew, my strength grew!" He flexed his biceps. "Yes, I owe a lot to my mustache! It instantly granted me respect and reverence. Why, I would be so bold as to say, I could never have reached my current level without it!"  
  
The others all glanced at each other incredulously, except for Vegeta, who was looking at Hercule with a strange gleam in his eye. If Bulma had caught it, she would have been very worried, indeed.  
  
"The dining room?" 18 prompted.  
  
Hercule cleared his throat. "Right, yes. Onward then." They resumed walking down the hall and reached the dining room. They sat down.  
  
"Where did our host go?" Krillin asked.  
  
Bulma turned from her discussion with 18 on the trials of raising teenage girls. "Where's Vegeta?"  
  
Meanwhile, down a side hallway, which Vegeta had dragged Hercule into when no one was looking. . .  
  
Hercule was cornered against the wall, trying not to cower under Vegeta's intense stare. "So. This mustache business," Vegeta said.  
  
Hercule swallowed. "Yes?"  
  
"Why do some people seem to be immune? How does one--get maximum benefit-- from it? Is there some secret?" He reached out, grabbed Hercule by his collar, and shook him. "What is the way to ultimate power?"  
  
"OK, OK, I'll tell you!"  
  
Vegeta let him go and waited expectantly.  
  
Suddenly Hercule flashed his 100-watt smile, pulled a bottle out of his pocket, and held it up. "The secret is this!" The bottle was in the shape of Hercule himself, fingers pointed in the air. You unscrewed his head to pour out what was in the bottle.  
  
Vegeta scowled. "What is it?"  
  
"The complete line of Hercule Satan hair care products! This is the mustache cream! Plus there's the Hercule shampoo, the Hercule conditioner, and the Hercule chest hair cream! In two varieties, the open-V shirt or the bare chested version! And if you order the complete line today, you get a free CD recording of 'Hercule Sings the 10 Greatest Love Songs of All Time!'"  
  
Vegeta stared. "You will never mention this conversation to anyone."  
  
__________ __________  
  
A short time later, in the dining room. . .  
  
Bulma, 18, and Krillin looked up as Hercule and Vegeta entered the room. Bulma's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Where have you been?"  
  
Hercule paled and rushed to sit down, saying nothing.  
  
Vegeta sat next to Bulma and crossed his arms. "What do you do when you disappear at Chi-Chi's?"  
  
"Try on her clothes," Bulma replied, smiling impishly.  
  
Vegeta scowled. "We looked at his weight lifting equipment," he lied easily.  
  
"Oh."  
  
Amazingly, dinner proceeded with no real problems. Vegeta was actually mostly civil. Bulma could hardly believe it. Hercule had relaxed back into his normal arrogant, jovial self, and was talking to Vegeta as if they were great buddies. "Hey Vegeta," he invited as they were finishing the meal, "want to have a quick workout in my special gym before you leave?"  
  
Vegeta thought a moment. "Fine."  
  
So they all walked down another hall lined with Hercule posters to a huge gym. Painted across the entire floor was a huge head of Hercule. 18 rolled her eyes again. In the gym, various students of Hercule's were training. Some were very young and seemed inexperienced. The older, better fighters all stopped what they were doing, came over, and bowed to Hercule.  
  
"My disciples," Hercule waved at them proudly. "My most successful students. You can tell them apart because they all have mustaches."  
  
The mustached disciples stood up. "Men, these are some friends of mine!" Hercule boomed. "I told Vegeta here he could train in my gym today. He's a strong fighter."  
  
One of the disciples semi-sneered at Vegeta. He was a huge, burly man with bulging muscles and a thick, handle-bar mustache. "Him?"  
  
"Um, that's Adonis, my best pupil," Hercule said, looking a bit nervous at the way Vegeta was staring at the other fighter.  
  
"That's right!" Adonis assumed an exaggerated WWF wrestler challenging-type pose. "I'm the best warrior in this dojo! Notice my large and well-groomed mustache!"  
  
Vegeta's eyes narrowed.  
  
18 decided to get at least a little enjoyment out of her evening. "Yes, Vegeta just grew a mustache."  
  
Adonis sneered again. "You call that a mustache? Why, compared to mine. . ."  
  
Bulma covered her face. Hercule paled. "Um, Adonis. . ."  
  
Vegeta powered up. Mere seconds later, Adonis had been punched through two walls and out onto the lawn.  
  
Still enraged, the Saiyan Prince looked around at the other disciples. "Anyone else want to insult my mustache or my fighting skills? I'll take you all on, you baka losers."  
  
"For Adonis!" one of them cried. Then they all threw themselves on Vegeta at once.  
  
__________ __________  
  
When Bra, Marron, and Pan entered the gym a few minutes later, they found Hercule, Bulma, Krillin, and 18 standing near the door in the only part of the room left standing. A large number of men in gi's were littered around the floor, up against the remains of walls and exercise equipment, and outside on the grass. Some of them were looking in small hand mirrors and weeping over the state of their singed mustaches.  
  
"You had to egg him on, didn't you?" Krillin whispered to 18.  
  
Vegeta was smugly surveying his work from the center of the room. "You may want to give them a few more lessons," he smirked.  
  
"Daddy! What did you do?"  
  
Vegeta walked over to his daughter and the others. "What? Hercule invited me to use his gym."  
  
"Grandpa, what were you thinking?"  
  
"Momentary lapse of sanity?" 18 suggested.  
  
Hercule just shook his head, looking saddened.  
  
One of the students sitting limply nearby reached into a pocket, pulled out one bottle of Hercule's mustache cream and one of hair cream, and began to apply them. Marron noticed and eyed the bottles curiously. "Daddy, isn't that what you use?"  
  
Krillin blushed deep red as everyone stared at him and waved his hands in a desperate motion of denial. "No, no. . ."  
  
All the women started giggling.  
  
__________ __________  
  
After Hercule and Bulma had exchanged insurance information, he walked them back down the entrance hallway. Vegeta, Bulma, 18, and Krillin waved to their children one last time as they left the main door.  
  
"Honestly, Vegeta, I can't take you anywhere," Bra heard her mother scold as they went down the steps. Bra tilted her head curiously to the side. She couldn't imagine what the strange lumps in her father's coat pockets were (A/N: think Hercule shaped bottles).  
  
As Vegeta picked up Bulma and flew away, Krillin took one last look after him and then back at Hercule Satan. 'Huh,' he thought. 'I wonder if there's anything to this mustache business. . .' 


End file.
